The past couple of months I’ve been packing, cleaning, and moving into a new house. I’ve spent hours looking at pictures of my old life, and going through Mikes clothing, and things in my garage.
I should have known better. It was excruciating. It took me backwards, and I spent about a month reliving Mikes last 2 months of his life when I brought him home on hospice.
I think reviewing the pictures, and his things in the garage just brought back the same fears, and feelings of helplessness that I felt when he was dying.
Everyone has said that the move is a good thing, and that I am starting a new chapter of my life. I’m not sure I want to start a new chapter of my life. I hear what they are saying, and I am trying, but acceptance is slow in coming.
I want to hold on. To hold onto our love. Our old life. Our memories.
I’m tired of grief. I’m tired of sadness. I’m tired of being tired.
Please God un break my heart.